The Doctor and the Angels
by thesilentlamb
Summary: ***NOW COMPLETE*** Long before Sally Sparrow's encounter with the Weeping Angels (or afterwards depending how you look at it), the Doctor and Sarah Jane had their own run in with one of the Doctor's most dangerous adversaries. Also starring a few other familiar faces. Adventure as always with a touch of romance. With thanks to Yhoretta for the cover image. :)
1. Chapter 1

It's been a bit of a while…moving house, sorting out something to type on. It's given me time to plan this new fic though. I hope you enjoy it.

_The Doctor and the Angels - Chapter 1_

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The Tardis door opened and the Doctor stuck his curly head out into the hazy afternoon.

"Are you sure about this, Sarah?" he inquired of the slim girl who had stepped out beside him. She basked for a moment in the unusually warm summer sunshine and nodded her head resolutely.

"Yes, of course. I've been here before after all."

He tilted his head in acknowledgement and watched her walk away between the gravestones, picking her way through the long grass and stopping to pluck a few wildflowers from the overgrown areas surrounding the older graves.

The Doctor considered her; he had once heard her described as an 'old soul' and while he dismissed the theory behind such a notion as patent nonsense (ironic given his own species' habit of moving from body to body), he appreciated the sentiment. At times like this, though, he was reminded of just how young Sarah Jane Smith really was. She was wearing a short shift dress that barely skimmed her tiny frame, a pair of cowboy boots and a scarf tied round her head to keep her long hair away from her face. From the back she could easily pass as no more than fourteen and not for the first time the Doctor wondered at his own selfishness in keeping her with him when she would be so much safer here, in the right time and place.

She came to a stop at a gravestone some distance away and carefully laid the wildflowers she had gathered along the crook of her arm. From the tilt of her head and the set of her jaw, the Doctor could tell she was talking. He turned away to give her some privacy and set about amusing himself by wondering amongst the gravestones, reading the epitaphs. Almost without exception the Doctor found this type of place calming, no matter what the planet; a welcome escape from the chaos of his own existence.

As he approached a relatively new looking grave something started to tug at him; an almost tangible aura surrounded the headstone, as though an invisible fog of electricity emanated from it. The Doctor furrowed his brow, stepping closer to read the words engraved in gold lettering upon the black marble.

'Edward Thomas

Born 1st March 1986

Sadly taken from us 17th July 1974, aged 72 years.'

The Doctor stared for a moment, certain that this must be a simple mistake. But this was no weathered stone that had lost its clarity; the dates were as clear as print on a newspaper headline. And somehow his time sensitivity was telling him that the dates spoke the truth. He stood for a moment, deep in thought until he became aware of Sarah's presence at his elbow.

"What is it?" she asked, following his gaze. "Oh…oh!" she exclaimed as the penny dropped.

Privately the Doctor felt the little twinge of pride that nudged at him whenever one of his human companions understood something without him having to spell it out. Outwardly he shrugged.

"Worth a little investigation, wouldn't you say?" he suggested, turning to Sarah with a characteristically wide grin.

Sarah rolled her eyes but was unable to contain the twitch of her lips as she tried not to smile.

"But not now;" the Doctor suddenly stated, his face falling.

"What? Why?"

"Because someone else is calling."

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A promising beginning, I hope. Do let me know what you think.


	2. Chapter 2

_The Doctor and The Angels - chapter 2_

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"Glad you could make it, Doctor, Miss Smith" Brigadier Alistair Lethbridge-Stewart welcomed them in his formal way as they stepped out of the TARDIS into the surroundings of the Doctor's laboratory in UNIT's headquarters.

"Yes, well, it's all very inconvenient," the Doctor grumbled, "Sarah and I had just found something most interesting to investigate, and here I am being summoned back again, no doubt for something terribly simple that could be solved without my assistance."

The Brigadier stifled Sarah's giggle at the Doctor's childish pique with a sharp look and turned back to his wayward scientific advisor.

"I rather think, Doctor, that you'll find this most interesting too."

He turned on his heel with the air of one who expects to be followed without question and the Doctor and Sarah obediently fell into line.

"Two days ago, we removed a young man from a police cell in a small village in Suffolk" he spoke over his shoulder as they passed through the corridors and into a smaller area full of holding cells. "He appears completely cognisant, but he has confused us somewhat."

"Well, what do you expect from me?" The Doctor demanded, "this is hardly my area of expertise. A human doctor would suffice, I'm sure. Even Sullivan would do!"

"Actually Doctor, I believe it's _precisely_ your area of expertise." the Brigadier corrected him as he came to a stop outside a white door furnished with a small viewing window of reinforced glass. Sarah peered through and saw a young man sitting on the edge of a bed , elbows on his knees, fiddling with a small black device she didn't recognise.

"And why is that?" The Doctor said, obstinately ignoring the window.

"Because he says he's from the future."

Sarah turned, an instinctive move to see the Doctor's reaction. He shrugged and tilted his head in acknowledgement of the Brigadier probably having been right to have summoned him, not that he'd ever admit it out loud.

As they entered the room, the young man stood and pocketed the device, holding out a hand for the Doctor to shake.

"I'm the Doctor, this is my friend Miss Smith,"

"Sarah," she clarified, giving the young man a friendly smile. He smiled awkwardly back.

"David" he introduced himself. "Look, I don't what I can say, but I really don't think I need a doctor."

"I'm not that kind of doctor," the timelord grinned. He sat down in a chair by the window and gestured for David and Sarah to take a seat as well. "Why don't you tell us how you came to be here?"

David took a deep breath as he sank back down onto the bed and gazed at the floor for a long moment. Sarah perched on the arm of the Doctor's chair and watched the young man as he visibly steeled himself to tell an unbelievable story for perhaps the fourth or fifth time.

"I was taking photographs at this old house in London, it's been deserted for years, I thought there'd be some interesting wildflowers in the grounds - I'm a biology teacher, you see. I saw some moss that I didn't recognise, growing on a statue in the garden behind the conservatory. I went to take a sample, and the next thing I know I'm in a campsite in the middle of nowhere and some hippies are telling me it's 1976!" at this point he paused and shook his head, obviously struggling to fathom his situation.

"They thought I was on drugs," he continued, "I didn't know what to do. I went to the local police station and told them what had happened to me, and they thought I was on drugs too." at this he threw Sarah a sheepish smile.

"Go on," she encouraged him.

"That's it really. The police threw me into a cell to sleep it off, then two hours later those army blokes turned up and brought me here." He looked at Sarah and the Doctor helplessly and Sarah struggled to form some comforting words.

Throughout this explanation the Doctor had sat quietly, deep in thought. When he spoke his deep voice made David jump.

"You said you took a sample of the moss?"

"What? Oh, yes…here." David rummaged in his pocket and produced a small plastic sample jar containing some deep green moss and what looked like grit.

"Some of the statue crumbled away. I didn't mean to cause any damage, really."

"That's fine, thank you David." the Doctor assured him. "I'll take this if I may." He turned to the Brigadier, standing in the doorway.

"I want to take a trip to where he was found, but I'd rather leave the TARDIS here. If there's something time sensitive happening there I don't want the TARDIS exposed."

The Brigadier nodded.

"Benton can take you. It's a couple of hours drive away, you should be there before nightfall."

The Doctor nodded at him and moved to leave, pausing to touch Sarah's arm.

"Stay here for now, Sarah," he murmured.

Sarah wanted to protest but the look the Doctor sent her stopped her in her tracks. Instead she looked back over at David who'd taken the small device back out of his pocket and was peering at it intently, running his thumb across it in quick swiping movements.

"What's that?" she asked curiously.

"It's my mobile." David answered, holding it out for her to see. "No signal, but I suppose that makes sense if this really is the seventies."

"Signal?" Sarah questioned, holding the small black rectangle gingerly between finger and thumb.

The Doctor peered at the device and took it from Sarah.

"It's a mobile telephone, Sarah. These will be commonplace, oh, certainly within your lifetime. What year did you say you were from?" he asked David suddenly.

David started at the question.

"2011" he answered, shaking his head at the absurdity of having to answer such a question.

"Yes, that would make sense." the Doctor nodded. "This would have a camera installed as well, I take it?"

"Yes, I was using it to take my photos. My usual camera's in for repair."

"Can you show me the photographs you took?"

David nodded dumbly, taking the telephone back from the Doctor and accessing the photographs. He held it up for them to see. Sarah leaned round the Doctor's elbow for a closer look and the Brigadier came forward from the doorway to see as well.

"That's the last clear one I took," David told them as they looked at the image of a tall statue of an angel, hands clasped over its face as though it were crying, the surrounding greenery making for an attractive picture had it not been for the shiver it sent through Sarah.

The Doctor took the phone and peered at it intently before passing it back to David once again. He glanced at the Brigadier.

"I'll need this sample analysed. Have you anyone up to the task?" he spoke as though he doubted the likelihood deeply.

"I believe I may have just the person."

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**Thanks to those who've reviewed or followed so far, I hope you keep enjoying this one.**


	3. Chapter 3

_The Doctor and the Angels - chapter 3_

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The Doctor surveyed the flat landscape of the Suffolk broads stretching as far as the eye could see. The area was sparsely inhabited and had it not been for the campsite David had mentioned they would have had trouble pinpointing the place. The Doctor swept the sonic screwdriver around his body, starting in a small range about his feet and lifting it until it circled him at shoulder height, eventually bringing it to his eyes to inspect the reading.

"Anything?" inquired Benton, leaning against the army issue Landover, his posture relaxed away from the watchful eyes of the Brigadier.

The Doctor shook his head and answered to himself more than to the young Sergeant.

"Nothing clear. There's certainly been some sort of disturbance here in the last few days, but nothing more than David's sudden arrival out of time would account for. Nothing ongoing, nothing to show us _why_…" he trailed off and harrumphed in frustration.

Benton glanced at his watch.

"It's getting on. Shall we go back?"

The Doctor did not answer but flounced past and clambered into the Landover's passenger seat, steepling his fingers and staring out of the window. Benton took this as agreement and sighed as he climbed into the driver's seat, mentally preparing himself for another two hour journey of having every conversational attempt rebuffed. He knew the Doctor operated on a higher level than the rest of them but he couldn't help thinking starting a conversation wouldn't be such an issue if he was female and pretty. He started the engine and executed a three point turn with a finesse even the Doctor couldn't miss. Smiling to himself, he took them on their way.

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Doctor Elizabeth Shaw wasn't at all what Sarah had imagined. Her qualifications and formidable reputation had conjured an image of someone closer to Aunt Lavinia's age. Sarah had visualised a stern woman with iron grey hair and perhaps some old fashioned spectacles; instead she was greeted with an attractive young woman, perhaps five years older than herself. Inwardly she chided herself for her preconceptions, a unforgivable fault in a journalist.

Dr Shaw had accepted Sarah Jane's presence in the lab while she worked ungraciously and had agreed so long as Sarah sat out of the way and didn't touch anything. Sarah smiled to herself. It was easy to imagine the sort of relationship Liz had had with the Doctor, they were alike in ways they themselves probably never realised. Initially she'd occupied herself watching the Brigadier as he lingered in the doorway, his attention trained for an unnecessary amount of time on the scientist. Indeed he had stood for so long Dr Shaw had glanced up from her work and asked if there was a problem? And Sarah had been highly amused at the pink spots that had appeared on the Brigadier's cheeks and the hastily disguised bluster as he assured her there was no problem at all; he'd shot Sarah a warning look which she'd returned with an innocent smile before he finally turned to leave.

Sarah watched Dr Shaw work, methodically dividing the sample into tiny quantities, meticulously labelling each of the smaller jars. She tried to restrain herself, but eventually curiosity got the better of her.

"You worked with the Doctor before, didn't you?"

Dr Shaw inclined her head to indicate yes but didn't answer, her eyes focused on the task in hand.

"But you left?"

The older woman sighed in resignation, and answered as she continued to label jars.

"Yes, I left. He didn't need me, not really. And with my credentials I couldn't go on being somebody's assistant."

Sarah cocked her head and observed the composed scientist, wondering what it would take to get a rise out of her.

"The others here must have missed your expertise though. Is that why you came back?"

Dr Shaw finally made eye contact, turning to look over her shoulder at Sarah with her eyes slightly narrowed.

"Yes," she said curtly, "when the Doctor went off gallivanting again they felt the loss. Eventually A…the Brigadier asked me to come back and do the job in his absence.

Sarah's lips twitched at the almost slip-of-the-tongue. She looked away, turning to examine the various items lining the walls of the laboratory and letting Dr Shaw off the hook for now. The scientist turned back to her work and all was silent save for the clinking of dishes and the scratching of her pen as she took notes. Sarah was trying to come up with another question that wouldn't ruffle the other woman's feathers too much when the door to the laboratory opened and a familiar face peered round.

"Sarah!"

"Harry!" she exclaimed in pleasure. It seemed months, perhaps even years - and in all likelihood it _had_ been years, at least in her own timeline - since she'd seen him. He came forward and gave her a brisk hug before holding her at arm's length to examine her.

"How are you, old girl?"

Sarah rolled her eyes.

"I'm _fine_, thank you Harry," she said primly, her lips pursed.

"Sorry Sarah," he apologised and she grinned at him, forgiven again, for now.

"What are you doing here? she asked him, eyebrows raised.

"The Brig asked me to come and have a look at this fellow David. Seems he's a bit lost, to put it mildly. I'm just here to check he's in good health, that's all." he looked at her closely again.

"Are _you_ in good health? The Doctor looking after you?"

Sarah rolled her eyes again.

"Yes, I'm fine," she said again.

Harry chuckled and backed off.

"I'm off then. See you later no doubt." he nodded to Dr Shaw who had watched the exchange with interest and left the room to see to his patient.

Dr Shaw looked back at Sarah.

"Why _do_ they think we need looking after?" she asked, half in amusement, half irritation.

"I really have no idea Dr Shaw," Sarah shrugged and the two women smiled at each other, the ice starting to thaw.

"It's Liz, please."

Sarah's smile widened.

"May I see?" She asked, nodding towards the samples Liz had been examining.

"Be my guest."

Sarah sat on the stool and peered through the microscope, gazing at the magnified crumbs of rock in the Petri dish.

"Do you see anything unusual?" Liz questioned her, her voice taking on an instructional tone.

Sarah straightened up, shaking her head.

"I'm really not very scientific," she admitted ruefully.

Liz gave her a patient smile and took a notebook and pen from the bench, beginning to draw a rough sketch.

"Do you know what a living cell looks like? It has a structure - organelles floating in a fluid called cytoplasm; in many cases a nucleous, depending on the type of cell; a cell wall that varies depending on whether it's an animal or plant cell."

Sarah watched the sketch form on the paper.

"What I've drawn here is typical of an animal cell." Liz explained, holding up the sketch that to Sarah's untrained eye resembled a fried egg with the measles. She nodded towards the microscope.

"Now look again."

Sarah squinted through the lens again while Liz took a tiny pair of tweezers, gently prodding at the fragments.

"Now do you see?"

Suddenly Sarah had it.

"There are cells in here!"

"Exactly. _Animal_ cells, not the plant cells that form the moss. Part of the stone itself which should by rights be all mineral."

Sarah sat back and looked up at Liz.

"So what on Earth does that mean?"

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**Please do review, your opinions are valued and they really do help!**


	4. Chapter 4

The Doctor and the Angels - chapter 4

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"Hullo there, Doctor." Harry greeted him as he swept into David's room.

"Harry! How are you?"

The Doctor grinned and shook the human doctor's hand warmly, his manner far more jovial than it had ever been when they travelled together.

"I'm very well Doctor. The better for keeping my feet on the ground I'd say."

"And what of our guest here?" the Doctor asked, clapping a hand onto David's shoulder, his grip reassuring.

"About that," David ventured, "Are they planning to let me go? I'm not prisoner here am I? I've done nothing wrong."

"No, no, I shall make sure of that" the Doctor assured him. "But it is important, you know, that we ensure you are in no danger. Assuming all is well I can take you back myself, you won't need to miss even a minute of time. Try not to worry."

He turned back to Harry, oblivious to David's expression as he gaped at being offered a journey through time as though it were no more than a lift home from the pub.

"Anything?"

Harry shook his head.

"He's in perfect health. Reflexes fine, no issue with motor skills, hearing... he says he doesn't even wear glasses."

The Doctor hummed.

"You were examining a statue, you say?"

David nodded mutely.

"What can you tell me about it?"

The teacher thought for a moment.

"It was an angel; you know the sort of thing you normally see in churchyards? Around six and half feet, maybe a bit taller. Certainly taller than me. It caught my eye because…" he paused and looked between the two wildly different doctors. "You agree there's nothing wrong with me? You're not going to change your minds about that?"

The Doctor narrowed his eyes.

"Why did it catch your eye, David?" he asked quietly, his tone at once comforting and yet broking no argument.

David sighed.

"I'm not mad. I'm _not_. But I swear the statue moved. I just caught it in the corner of my eye. It was in the garden, with its hands covering its eyes. But when I looked back, its head had turned, I'm _sure _of it.

The Doctor nodded slowly.

"Interesting."

"I'm not mad. I'm not." the young man repeated, as though trying to convince himself more than anyone else.

The Doctor bent down to place his hands either side of David's legs where he perched on the edge of the bed, and fixed him with a hard stare.

"David," he said firmly, "you are most certainly _not _ mad, any more than I am. Someone, or something has done this to you and I will find out who."

During the pregnant pause that followed Benton rapped at the door with a tray of food.

"Doctor? Dr Shaw has something to show you."

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The Doctor looked genuinely curious as Liz explained her findings to him. He bent over the microscope and scanned the fragments with the sonic screwdriver, his brow furrowed as he mulled over the evidence before him.

Sarah watched the exchange with interest; any jealousy she might have felt at the way Liz connected with him on an intellectual level she could never hope to quashed by the uncertainty on the other woman's face as she stole glances at the Doctor, so different now to the version she had known. Sarah knew her own mixed feelings about his transformation, but at least she had been there to witness the change with her own eyes. She couldn't blame Liz for being thrown by the contrast between the dandy she had known and the bohemian now standing before her.

The Doctor straightened up and frowned.

"Show me the other samples," he demanded. Sensing a lengthy scientific debate brewing Sarah decided she was better off elsewhere and wandered into the corridor, finding herself after a moment outside the Brigadier's open office door. He was standing by the window, still and quiet, his back ramrod straight. He seemed deep in thought and Sarah wondered what had caused him to look as though the weight of the world was on his shoulders - more so than usual anyway. She decided not to disturb him and headed off down the hallway, pausing again outside David's door. She knocked quietly; it was late and he could be sleeping after all. A soft "come in" told her otherwise and she opened the door. David was perching on the windowsill, his mobile telephone in hand.

"I though you said there was no signal." she said, gesturing at the small black device.

The teacher chuckled.

"There isn't. It's just force of habit. Besides I've nothing else to do."

"I'll ask Benton to bring you the morning papers tomorrow if you like?" Sarah Jane offered. The young man smiled at her and nodded his appreciation.

"That's kind of you. I suppose if I'm stuck here I might as well get up to speed with the news." he glanced back down at the telephone. "And that's the battery gone." he sighed.

Sarah Jane sank down on the edge of the bed and looked up at him.

"The Doctor will take you home, I'm sure of it."

"Yes… he said that too. Can he really travel in time?"

"Is it so unbelievable?" Sarah asked him, "after what's happened to you?"

"well, no, I suppose not. It's just - I've heard of timeslips and the like, but… he actually has a _time machine_?"

"Time and space, if you can believe that."

"How… I mean _how_?"

Sarah Jane grinned at him.

"He's a time lord, David. It's his raison d'etre."

"He's not human?" the young man's voice was incredulous and Sarah felt the familiar tiny spark of pride that came with being one of the chosen few who could share in the Doctor's limelight, even if only by association. She patted the bed next to her and David sat down cautiously, his eyes alight with curiosity.

Half an hour later, and they were both in fits of laughter as Sarah recounted tales of her travels with the Doctor. David had finally relaxed and Sarah couldn't help but like him. He was intelligent and funny and had a way of putting her at her ease that she didn't often find in young men.

A sharp rap on the door followed by it swinging open without pause cut their laughter short and the Doctor burst into the room. For a moment it seemed he was put out about something, although what it was, Sarah couldn't say. But he recovered swiftly and fixed them both with a wide eyed grin.

"What do you say to a trip in the TARDIS? Both of you?"

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Thanks for reading this far. Let me know what you think.


	5. Chapter 5

_The Doctor and the Angels - chapter 5_

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The party filed into the TARDIS; Sarah Jane and the Doctor taking up their places next to the console by second nature, the Brigadier and Harry looking uncomfortable despite their familiarity with the Doctor's ship. Liz and David both paused in the doorway, their expressions suitably awestruck. Sarah thought she detected a trace of smugness about the Doctor. She knew he loved this part.

"But it's… bigger…" David trailed off

"On the inside, yes," the Doctor finished impatiently. "Come on in now Liz, you knew what to expect."

"Yes, Doctor, but do forgive me - it rather takes the wind out of one's sails when the laws of physics are broken before one's eyes." she snapped, her voice acid. The Doctor actually looked chastened for once and the Brigadier's mouth twitched in barely concealed amusement.

"David," the Doctor said and all eyes fell on the young man who still stood motionless just inside the TARDIS door.

"Yes?"

"Tell me exactly when and where you were when you encountered the statue."

David thought for a moment.

"It was 18th July, 2011.… about half past ten in the morning. It's a place called Wester Drumlins, in London…"

"That'll do, thank you David." the Doctor replied, throwing levers and jabbing in coordinates. The familiar grinding began and the TARDIS took off with a lurch; David and Liz grabbed at the walls while the more seasoned travellers managed to stay upright with varying levels of finesse. After several long seconds of being flung about like rag dolls, the TARDIS landed with a thump and its passengers shook themselves off. The Doctor glanced at the display screen and the console data.

"19th July 2012. Not bad." he muttered with a slight tinge of surprise in his voice. He moved towards the TARDIS door and was brought up short by the Brigadier's hand on his shoulder.

"Let me, Doctor."

The Doctor shrugged him off.

"They're statues, Brigadier, I think even you realise that bullets will quite probably serve no purpose on this occasion." Nonetheless he stood back and let the Brigadier swing open the TARDIS door and step out into the sunlight filtering through the broken window, his gun held by his hip as he scanned the room they'd landed in.

"All clear!" he called and the rest of the party trooped out after him. Liz by now had regained her composure and whatever she was feeling was hidden under a calm exterior. David was still gaping like a goldfish and Sarah laid a comforting hand on his arm.

"You do get used to it, I promise." she smiled up at him and he grinned gratefully back. Harry gave him a friendly shoulder bump.

"Don't worry old chap. If I can put up with it you can too."

The Doctor harrumphed.

"Let search the house. Everyone on their guard. Sarah and I will go upstairs while the rest of you look through the downstairs and garden."

Several minutes passed and the Doctor and Sarah stood in the last of the bedrooms. The house was clearly deserted and the Doctor was beginning to doubt they'd find anything.

"Is everything alright Doctor?" Sarah asked him cautiously.

The Doctor paused in thought before turning to her, his face only inches away, speaking with urgency.

"Do you enjoy travelling with me, Sarah?" he asked. Sarah stared at him in surprise at the unexpected question.

"I…" she began, but she was interrupted by a shout.

"Come and see this Doctor!" Harry's voice echoed from downstairs and the two of them moved away from each other in some relief, Sarah following the Doctor as he bounded down the stairs, scarf trailing behind him, and into a large room that backed onto the garden. Harry and Liz were staring up at the wall while David and the Brigadier appeared from another part of the house.

Sarah followed their gaze and started in shock. Painted across the wall in letters a foot high was a message which had obviously once been concealed by wallpaper and later uncovered.

_BEWARE THE WEEPING ANGEL_

_OH, AND DUCK!_

_REALLY, DUCK!_

_SALLY SPARROW DUCK NOW!_

_LOVE FROM THE DOCTOR, 1969_

"Oh, now that _is_ interesting," the Doctor grinned, his interest well and truly piqued.

"Who on Earth is Sally Sparrow?" asked Liz.

"I don't know." the Doctor replied. Someone I'm going to meet eventually, I suppose."

"More importantly at this point," Harry interjected, "what's a weeping angel?"

There was an uncomfortable silence.

"Well. This an interesting welcome party."

All six of them turned on the spot at the unfamiliar voice, A man in an army greatcoat stood behind them, hands in his pockets, feet apart. An air of friendly arrogance surrounded him and he looked them over with interest.

The Brigadier came forward, eyes narrowed as he sized up the stranger. He appeared no older than perhaps late thirties but the greatcoat he wore predated him by several decades. Perhaps that was the fashion nowadays, although the Brigadier disapproved wholeheartedly.

"Identify yourself, soldier!" he barked.

"Captain Jack Harkness." the stranger eyed the Brigadier in an odd way that made him feel decidedly uncomfortable and he frowned, irritated at being put on the back foot and by a subordinate, no less.

"And what is your business here?" he asked through pursed lips.

"I might ask you the same question," the Captain answered. He had an accent that Sarah struggled to place…American , perhaps?

For a long moment the two army men stood in stalemate.

"Perhaps," the Doctor said over the Brigadier's shoulder, "you could enlighten us? What do you know about this weeping angel?"

"Only that you don't wanna meet one." the Captain answered cryptically with a smirk. The Doctor frowned and turned back to the message. Captain Harkness threw Sarah a wink and mouthed 'hey' to Liz. The two women caught each other's eye, sharing a moment of solidarity as they pointedly ignored the newcomer. Harry and David, Sarah noted, were both looking decidedly uptight and the Brigadier was well and truly thrown by this new addition.

"So the - a Doctor left this message?" Jack asked.

"So it would appear," the Doctor agreed.

"Wait!" David threw up a hand and they all turned their attention to him.

"Can you hear that?"

Silence fell as they all strained their ears to listen.

And there it was. A heavy scraping of stone on wood, judging by its faintness at least two floors away.

"The attic!" Harry exclaimed.

"Stay here." The Brigadier ordered them. "The Doctor and I will go up. If we're not back in five min-" he broke off as the Captain pushed past him, bounding up the stairs two at a time.

"Captain! Wait! That's an order, soldier!"

He dashed after Harkness, the Doctor on his heels. Sarah made to follow them only to be stopped by Harry's grip on her elbow.

"Stay here old girl, let the Doctor and the Brig sort this out."

Sarah scowled at him but David took hold of her other arm.

"He's right, Sarah. We don't know what's up there."

Sarah sighed in frustration and shook the two men off.

"Alright, alright. I'll wait." she glanced over at Liz who was gazing in the direction of the stairs with ill disguised worry written all over her face.

"The Brig will be alright, Liz," she said softly, Liz colouring at her comment.

Upstairs the Doctor and the Brigadier pulled up short at the attic door. Captain Harkness was standing almost nose to nose with a statue, its face torn into a terrible grimace, mouth open, razor sharp teeth bared, any resemblance to an angel confined to its stone clothing. Its arms were outstretched as though it had frozen in the act of reaching for its prey.

"What the Devil…?" the Brigadier muttered, raising his gun to shoulder height and training it on the statue.

Jack laughed nervously.

"It, um, doesn't seem to move so long as I'm looking at it."

"Then keep looking at it man!" the Brigadier ordered him. He spoke out of the corner of his mouth.

"Doctor, what do we do?"

Jack turned to them with an expression of shock and surprise. Wait, what did you say? _Doctor_?"

The three men stared at each other and instantly realised their mistake as their eyes collectively met. There was a flash, and Jack was gone.

"Brigadier," the Doctor said quietly, his eyes trained, unblinking, on the angel which was now turned in their direction, "make for the stairs. Get the others to the TARDIS."

The Brigadier nodded.

"Understood." he turned and leapt down the stairs, clattering down to the ground floor. The Doctor waited until he heard him gathering the others and the sound of their footsteps hurrying into the room where the TARDIS was standing, smiling, in spite of his predicament, at the muffled sounds of Sarah Jane's protests. Never taking his eyes away from the statue, he reached blindly for the doorknob, pulling the door slowly closed, keeping the angel in sight until the last possible moment. As the door clicked closed he turned tail and fled, taking almost the whole flight of steps in one leap.

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**Thanks for reading!**


	6. Chapter 6

_The Doctor and the Angels - chapter 6_

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Harry led the way into the room containing the TARDIS only to pull up short.

"What is it, man?" barked the Brigadier from his place at the rear of the group.

"Three of them. Angels. They're surrounding the TARDIS."

The Brigadier pushed past Sarah and Liz and stepped into the room where Harry and David now stood staring at the statues who flanked the TARDIS, hands still innocently resting over their eyes.

"Keep looking at them." he said, in his firm, quiet voice that exuded authority; "Sullivan, the left one, David, the right, Miss Shaw - the one in the middle. Do _not_ take your eyes off them, not for a second. Clear?"

The others murmured their understanding. Behind the Brigadier, Sarah looked anxiously over her shoulder. A moment later she sagged in relief as she heard the bull-in-a-china-shop approach that was unmistakably the Doctor taking the stairs five at a time. He dashed into the room, his hand briefly making contact with her elbow as he stopped, instantly sizing up the situation. Shrugging out of his coat, he handed it to Sarah Jane and stepped up to the Brigadier's side, placing a hand on the other man's shoulder, silently informing him that everything was under control. He nodded slowly and moved easily through to the TARDIS door, slipping in the key and opening it. He stepped back and looked carefully at the angel David was currently staring at.

"David? Please go into the TARDIS - keeps your eyes on that angel until you're inside." David began to comply, stepping backwards towards the open door. The Doctor opened his mouth to repeat the same order to Harry and Liz but he was distracted by the sounds of screeching tyres, followed by shouts and a crash as the two windows serving the room were smashed. Six marksmen poured in through the broken panes. They were unmistakably UNIT officers, but their uniforms were far more modern than the Brigadier's own issue; Alistair found himself looking on in distaste although he privately owned they looked splendidly functional. David held his hands up at his shoulders, eyes wide with alarm. It was obvious, however that the marksmen were not there for them and they took up their stances, two at each angel, guns and eyes trained on their targets.

The Doctor took this all in his stride and spoke calmly.

"Are there more of you fellows? There's at least one more of these upstairs…" his voice trailed off as he looked at the door he'd come through.

"Doctor?" Sarah questioned, as his eyes fell on her with barely concealed horror. The angel that had appeared behind her shoulder and reached for her was too fast for him, his eye contact coming less than a nanosecond too late. She was gone.

"Oh Sarah Jane!" he exclaimed, his voice plaintive as the realisation hit him that he could do nothing.

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Sarah Jane stumbled and fell, momentarily blinded as though by a camera flash. Her back collided with a brick wall and she gasped as the wind was knocked out of her. Sinking down into a heap, she leaned her forehead on her knees and attempted to regain her breath. Every muscle in her body tingled as though she'd been torn apart and put back together.

Slowly, her eyesight cleared and her heart rate slowed; she looked up around her. She was under a tiny bridge that spanned a narrow winding stream. A path led away to her right, following the line of the water and dotted every few yards with benches. The day was overcast and she shrugged into the Doctor's coat, thankful that he'd handed it to her. She weighed up her options. She should stay nearby; if the Doctor was to find her she would need to remain near the echo of the disturbance her sudden shift would have caused in the time vortex. Ripples in a pond, the Doctor had once told her. Every being moving through time from one layer to the next caused ripples, radiating out from the centre. If you wanted to be found, it was always best to stay near the middle.

Still, she reasoned. It wouldn't hurt to find out where - and when - she was. She wandered along the towpath, strolling slowly, unwilling to leave this place, where her trace would be strongest. She eventually reached one of the benches, next to which stood a litter bin. She lifted a newspaper out from the top; it might not be today's but it would give her an idea.

"25th September 1921." she murmured to herself. She suddenly felt very alone. Looking up and across the river, she glimpsed a church spire in the distance, the sound of a bell ringing in the people to prayer. She closed her eyes and sent up a prayer herself.

She looked back down at the newspaper. How would he find her? In all of time, and space… how would he know where to look?

What happened when the ripples faded?

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The Doctor was staring accusingly at the angel, his eyes filled with furious rage; he knew it was pointless to ask it questions, but he silently demanded answers of it regardless.

"_Where have you sent her?"_

"_Do you have any idea what I will do to you if she's lost, or hurt?" _

"It won't speak, no matter how much you want it to, Doctor."

The voice was young, and female. London, probably; less well spoken than Sarah Jane but clear and precise nonetheless. The sound came from one of the smashed windows behind him. After a moment he heard the sound of boots hitting the floor as she jumped nimbly down from the ledge.

"Who are you?" he asked, never taking his eyes from his quarry.

"A friend. I came to give you this."

Something touched the Doctor's hand and he took it, a folder of some sort, tucking it inside his waistcoat. He would inspect it later; it was imperative he didn't look away from the angel. His eyes were starting to ache with the effort and he winked them both, one after that other.

"What are they?" he asked in a low, angry voice that made the hairs on the back of Harry's neck stand up. He glanced over at David who was looking at the Doctor with an odd sort of recognition in his face.

"They're the Weeping Angels. The Lonely Assassins. They're quantum locked. They literally turn to stone as soon as you look at them." the woman answered him. She spoke with confident authority for one so young and the Brigadier looked on with approval. It was a trait he admired and he found his eyes drifting to Liz who looked rather shattered by the recent turn of events.

"But when you look away… they move faster than you can imagine. They send their victims back in time and live off the potential energy." she finished.

"How do you know all this?" the Doctor asked, his voice betraying his suspicions.

"Because you told me." she replied softly.

The Doctor smiled.

"I look forward to meeting you."

He steeled himself.

"If I let this one take me. Will it send me to Sarah?"

She took her time answering.

"I honestly don't know. It may be random. It may be that the same angel at the same encounter _will_ send people back together. It may be that your characteristics as a time lord throw a whole load of other variables into the mix."

The Doctor nodded.

"But," she continued with a tiny smile in her voice, "I think it's worth a try on this occasion."

The Doctor grinned widely. And with that, he slowly, deliberately, blinked.

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**Thanks again to those who read, reviewed, favourited or followed. It really does make my day. ****J**


	7. Chapter 7

_The Doctor and the Angels - chapter 7_

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Martha Jones watched the Doctor vanish with a mixture of trepidation and satisfaction. She had known, of course, that this would be the outcome - but she still couldn't shake the feeling that she had sent him off into who-knows-what kind of trouble.

"Brigadier?" she said.

"Yes?" the normally sharp toned man jumped in surprise.

"Keep your eyes on that angel please."

"Of course." The Brigadier complied as the young woman spoke through her intercom and requested more marksmen. Two more entered through the window and took up their places. All four angels were now effectively surrounded and Martha ushered out David, Liz, Harry and finally Alistair into the grounds of the house, moving them quickly along until they were safely ensconced in the back of a black UNIT van. It was equipped with video screens and it became apparent that the feeds were coming from cameras placed on the marksmen's helmets. For several minutes there was no talking as they watched the men work, quickly handling the stone angels into a square formation facing each other. Once this was accomplished they loaded the TARDIS onto a square palette on wheels and pushed it out of the house and into another van. The young woman heaved an audible sigh of relief and finally turned to the visitors.

"Doctor Martha Jones" she offered, as the Brigadier shook her hand.

"Brigadier Alistair Lethbridge-Stewart." he answered crisply.

"I know," she replied with a broad smile. "We've met. Well, I've met _you_."

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The Doctor staggered and landed with a thump on a grassy incline under a weeping willow. At the foot of the slope was a sharp drop into a fast flowing river and for a moment he thanked his lucky stars he hadn't landed _in_ it. He came to his senses quickly and looked around; there was no sign of Sarah Jane. He closed his eyes and concentrated; there was _definitely_ no sign. The disruption in time here only accounted for his own sudden arrival. She wasn't here, nor had she been here recently. Damn.

He stood and shook himself off. Which way? For a moment he waited, lost. She could literally be anywhere, and any_when_. And then something caught his eye. A mark on the tree trunk, tiny, but significant in the way it had been made. Not burned, or carved, but bored into the wood, as though by a very tiny, concentrated, vibrating frequency. Something that _could_ have been a sonic screwdriver… it was an arrow, and it pointed upstream.

"Excellent."

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Sarah Jane wasn't wearing a watch; but she'd sat on the bench long enough to read the paper from cover to cover; for two dog walkers and a pair of young lovers to come past, all giving her slightly curious looks as they did; and for the sun to move far enough across the sky for it to now be shining directly into her eyes. She sighed and looked up yet again, scanning the horizon and craning her neck to see behind her, something she'd been reflexively doing approximately every thirty seconds since she'd sat down. At some point, she'd have to get up and move. She couldn't spend the night here. Although she wasn't altogether sure where she _was_ going to spend the night. She had almost made up her mind to get up when someone cleared their throat awkwardly behind her. Standing and whirling round, she came face to face with a young girl. _Very_ young, perhaps only a teenager. Sarah could tell immediately that this girl was certainly not from 1921. She was wearing a short, thickly padded black jacket in a shiny fabric that was covered in badges, and her hair was tightly pulled back. She looked as out of place as Sarah did.

"Who are you?" Sarah questioned her automatically but the girl shook her head.

"I can't tell you. But I've got a message for you."

"From whom?" Sarah demanded.

"I can't tell you. But he said 'be patient'. He said you'd know what he meant."

"Well, yes, of course I know what that means, but how patient exactly? How long is _he _going to be?"

"Sorry. Don't know. That's all he said."

Sarah threw her head back and rolled her eyes in frustration.

"Why, that _infuriating…_" she trailed off as she saw the girl had vanished.

Frustrated as she was, it was a sign. He was searching for her, and by the looks of it, in the right place. Resolving to give him another half hour, she flopped back down on the bench.

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The Brigadier sipped at the tasteless tea he'd wrestled from the vending machine and pulled a face.

"Convenience certainly isn't everything, is it?" Liz observed wryly as she joined him, grimacing at the paper cup she held suspiciously between finger and thumb as though it might explode.

Alistair barked a short laugh and gestured at the operation running below them.

"It's all come on a bit since the 1970's hasn't it? This looks like something from a Bond film."

Liz chuckled and glanced down at her hands before answering.

"Yes I suppose so." she turned to face him fully; "Are you alright?"

"Of course. Are _you_?"

She shrugged and looked back at the personnel going about their work, a staggering amount of technology in use in a space that would have held perhaps two computer processing units in their own time.

"I suppose so." she paused. "You know, Doctor Jones says there's a job for me here if I want it."

Her tone was so offhand it took the Brigadier a moment to comprehend what she'd said.

"And _do_ you want it?"

"I honestly don't know. Things are much more _equal_ here. Martha said it's not a won battle by any means but I'd be taken more seriously, I wouldn't have the same struggles women do in the seventies.." she trailed off and started to gnaw on her lip, something Alistair had never seen her do before.

"I take you seriously, Liz," he said with more feeling than he intended. She quirked a tiny smile without looking at him.

"I know. But we must plan for what we do if the Doctor doesn't make it back, Alistair."

He nodded slowly. She was, as always, right.

"We know one thing though," she continued, "Doctor Jones has met you. An older version of you. That means _you_ at least go back, somehow."

She was right. Again. The Brigadier took another sip of his tea, principally to cover the look on his face at the thought of leaving her behind in the 21st century.

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David balked at the medibay he'd been taken to. The sheer amount of equipment was overwhelming and he had the distinct impression he was about to be used as a human lab rat. Harry clapped a hand onto his shoulder.

"Don't worry, old chap, they only want a few samples. Doctor Jones explained it all to me. It seems they want to test if your biology has been altered by travelling through time as you did." his eyes drifted around the room. "I say, is that an electronic sphyg?" he exclaimed, suddenly distracted. David was not at all comforted and perched gingerly on the edge of the trolley. Martha Jones appeared several moments later and shrugged into her lab coat.

"David, isn't it?" she asked him in a friendly tone and he relaxed instantly. Intentional or not, her bedside manner was certainly effective.

"Yes, Doctor Jones?"

"Martha," she clarified. "And don't look so nervous, I'm not here to run experiments on you. I just want a couple of blood samples and some skin scrapes if that's okay?"

David nodded.

"Okay."

"If we can flag anything unusual it might help us to track down other victims of the Angels. And if - when the Doctor gets back we could use the TARDIS to return some people to their right times. It's worth a try, anyway."

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**A/N - a sphygmomanometer is used to measure blood pressure. Its one of my favourite words although Harry understandably uses the shortened version…I'm pretty sure electronic ones weren't around in the 70s anyway. **

**Thanks for reading. Please review, your thoughts are always welcome.**


	8. Chapter 8

_The Doctor and the Angels - chapter 8_

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Sarah Jane was thoroughly confused. Three more visitors had appeared, each as brief and inscrutable as the nameless girl; the first to tell her to start walking towards the village, the second to advise her to head for an inn called 'The Feathers' and the third, a good looking older woman with a mass of curly hair (the sort of woman Aunt Lavinia would have referred to as 'handsome') had simply said,

"Be patient sweetie. He'll find you; he always does."

Sarah did not at all enjoy being led blindly in this way - it went against every independent bone in her body - but she had little choice. The fact that it was obviously the Doctor who had sent these people to her was of little comfort. But in any case, the sun was beginning to set and an inn sounded attractive at this point. Perhaps they'd offer her a bed in return for washing the dishes or something.

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The Doctor was torn between worry for Sarah, annoyance at the merry dance he was being led, and the undeniable excitement he always felt at the chase. His path had been marked with clues, little signs that he -a later 'he', of course - had been this way. Here, a mark made with the sonic screwdriver, there, an item from his own wardrobe - a sock, a cravat - left to guide him; a trail of breadcrumbs that would lead to him to where he needed to be. He carefully collected the items, intending to return them to the TARDIS. After all, the future him would need them. Similarly he stored away the information - where each item was found, how it had been placed - squirreling it away in that corner of his brain he reserved for his rather formidable 'to do' list.

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Martha Jones and Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart examined the huge bank of screens that displayed a range of views of the night sky. Martha had explained that they were linked to most of the world's largest observatories and used to keep a close eye on any unusual activity.

"These ones here," she said, gesturing to half a dozen large screens on the left hand side of the room, "show most of the sky over Australia and New Zealand. The skies there are very clear so these are particularly useful for spotting things further off. The light pollution in London is a real bind."

Alistair nodded.

"This is all most impressive, Miss Jones. The technology here has changed a great deal since my time."

"And I'm afraid you can't take any of it back with you," Martha smiled, chuckling at his obvious disappointment. She inclined her head as her intercom chirruped and excused herself, leaving him alone with only the skies for company.

"It looks like I won't be taking _anything_ back with me." he murmured to himself.

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Liz wandered through the wonderfully futuristic - to her eyes anyway - laboratory; she wasn't a sentimental woman, but if she found beauty in anything, it was this. The shining glassware and colourful liquids; the burettes and distillation units; the neat rows of boiling tubes. Even the whiteboard seemed to glisten in a way a blackboard simply couldn't through its layers of chalk. The computer screens, sleek and slim, holding a truly unbelievable amount of information in a tiny hard drive. The equipment available here, the possibilities that working in a place like this would open up were almost beyond her wildest dreams. She was frustrated with the doubts that burrowed into her mind, and infuriated with herself for allowing them to dig their way in. What was there to think about? How could she turn this down? The light overhead flickered and she glanced upwards at the fluorescent strip as it buzzed and wavered.

"Some things are just the same," she muttered sourly, before the light winked out altogether.

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As it happened, it was all rather simple. The Doctor and Sarah Jane had arrived at The Feathers at almost the same moment.

"Doctor!"

"Oh, Sarah!"

They had dashed to meet each other and the Doctor had pulled her into an unexpected embrace before holding her at arm's length to examine her.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes, of course," she had grinned at him, any annoyance she felt swept away in the moment, so glad was she to see him in the flesh.

He'd grinned back affectionately and chucked her cheek with his fingertip.

"So," she said, "what now?"

"Well," the Doctor ruminated, running a hand over his chin, "we need to find a way back to the year 2012. Of course that's easier said than done," he continued thoughtfully, almost to himself. Sarah couldn't help but smile at this impressive understatement.

"But first, I think we need something to eat and somewhere to stay. You, at least, need to sleep, I imagine?"

Sarah Jane nodded.

"Do you have a terribly clever plan to bluff your way in? Perhaps as a hotel inspector?"

"Less of your cheek, Miss Smith," he scolded her gently. "If you'll look in the pockets of that coat, you should find some currency."

Sarah Jane obeyed, digging deep through the layers of junk in the Doctor's coat pockets - thimbles and yoyos and sticky sweets, until her fist closed around something that felt like a coin purse. Pulling it out, she emptied it onto her flattened palm. The Doctor leaned over and started picking through, removing oddly shaped coins and notes that clearly belonged to another time or place - or both.

"That'll do," he said, counting out a number of coins.

The two of them stepped into the quiet, dark inn. The barman gave them an odd look that became instantly more interested as the Doctor placed the money down on the bar.

"Good evening!" The Doctor said in a jovial tone, "We need a room, my niece and I - have you one available?"

The innkeeper gave them a suspicious look and eyed Sarah's odd ensemble. The obviously man-sized coat covering a very short dress was clearly not what he was used to seeing.

"I should explain," the Doctor continued, with an effort to tone down his jollity, "her house was burned down, and she's had to wait all day for me to come to collect her. She only has her nightdress." this last statement was delivered in a conspiratorial whisper and the barman hastily averted his eyes.

"Of course," he said, reaching behind him to retrieve a key , "room three - turn left at the top of the stairs."

As Sarah began to move towards the door he called out again in a softer voice.

"My daughter's only a little taller than you; she may have something you can wear."

"Thank you," Sarah replied with genuine gratitude.

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Martha paused on her way to the main control room; something had distracted her, but what? She glanced over her shoulder, frowning at the long corridor behind her. _Something_ was different…

"Hello?" she called, feeling foolish even as she opened her mouth. She squinted her eyes, trying to see the door at the end of the corridor, and then it hit her that the she _couldn't_ quite see it. That was all it was, a fused light bulb causing the end of the hall to look darker than usual. She rolled her eyes at her own slow-wittedness before starting to turn back.

And then the next light went out.

The hairs on Martha's arms stood up. She turned and ran.

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**Oh-er. More to come.**


	9. Chapter 9

_The Doctor and the Angels - chapter 9_

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The Doctor and Sarah Jane had not been in their room longer than five minutes before there was a knock on the door. The Doctor opened it while Sarah sat on the tiny bed and gingerly pulled back the covers. The sheets looked and smelt clean, and she breathed a sigh of relief at this small comfort. The girl at the door was indeed only slightly taller than Sarah and perhaps sixteen years old. She was holding a pile of folded clothes which she reached over and placed on a small dressing table in the corner. She glanced over at Sarah, looking waiflike in the Doctor's huge overcoat and sent her sympathetic smile.

"Sorry to hear about the fire. I hope no-one was hurt?"

"No," Sarah hastily improvised, "I was alone, my uncle only got back from his business trip a couple of hours ago. My parents are, er, away."

The girl nodded.

"That's a blessing, at least. Well, here are some clothes, anyway. It's not much but they should fit you."

"Thank you," Sarah said gratefully. She felt a dreadful fraud at accepting charity in this way; although on refection she was somewhat of a charity case now, stuck here with, well, nothing.

The girl took her leave and she was alone with the Doctor. His comforting presence made the world of difference even if it was indirectly his fault she was here in the first place. He sent her a firm look.

"Sleep, Sarah. Tomorrow we'll think of a way out of this."

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Martha Jones sprinted down the hallway, as the lights extinguished ever more quickly behind her; making it seem that the darkness itself was pursuing her. She ducked into a small control room and slammed the door, shoving a chair under the handle for good measure. There were several CCTV screens in here, showing views of the building from a variety of angles. Most of them were dark, the lights completely out in those areas. Several were showing nothing but static. Dr Shaw and the Brigadier were nowhere to be seen. One screen, however, showed Harry, still in the medibay, examining something in the cupboards. Martha picked up the phone on the desk and dialled quickly, forcing her fingers not to shake. On the screen Harry glanced around before locating and picking up the receiver. The screen was silent but Martha heard his voice in her ear.

"Hullo?"

"Harry!" she exclaimed, "It's Martha - listen - where's David?"

"In the lavatory, down the hall.. Should I fetch him?"

"No!" Martha almost shouted, "sorry… but I think he's on his own now. There's - at least I think - there's an Angel in the building."

"What?" Harry's voice sounded startled, "How?"

"I don't know. But you need to barricade the door, and you need to stay put. Don't open that door unless you're sure it's one of us, understand?"

"Yes, of course," came the worried reply, and Martha pressed the button to cut the phone off, dialling again for the viewing room she'd left the Brigadier in. There was no CCTV in that room and she fervently hoped that he was still there.

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Liz backed out into the hallway from the darkened lab into an almost equally darkened hallway. Clearly it was a power cut rather than a burned out light bulb and she sighed. It was all very well, she thought, having all this fancy equipment, but some _windows_ wouldn't go amiss. She reached into her pocket for her penlight, glad that she had thought to take it out of her lab coat before she'd left it behind in _her _UNIT. She fiddled blindly with it, turning it round in her hand to press the button. It shone with a half beam and she frowned. The batteries must be running low. Swinging it up to judge the strength of the beam she gasped as her eyes met those of the statute in front of her. Her heart almost leapt out of her chest at the sight as it loomed over her.

_Don't look away, _she reminded herself, but there was no denying the panic that started to set in as her penlight rapidly dimmed.

The arms that grabbed her, one around her chest, the other, her waist, felt more human flesh than stone but she failed to stifle her scream.

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The Doctor glanced over at Sarah's sleeping form and sighed deeply. Here they were again, perhaps not in mortal danger on this occasion, but still in a pretty sticky fix. A Timelord wasn't much of a Timelord without a time machine, after all. The last time he'd been stranded he'd at least had UNIT to base himself at. To give him equipment to play with, enemies to pursue… but life in the slow lane without any of that... his eyes fell on Sarah as she murmured in her sleep and he brightened a little; life in the slow lane with Sarah Jane Smith for company need not be so very dull.

He reached into his waistcoat and retrieved the plastic wallet the woman from UNIT had handed him. She had known him; that meant he at least made it back to UNIT, and after all they would keep the TARDIS safe for him. He'd get it back eventually, even if he had to simply _live_ the next 90 odd years on Earth to get there.

Sinking into the chair in the corner, he emptied the file onto the tiny desk. The contents resembled a police evidence file; a collection of printed and handwritten notes on loose leaves of paper, photographs, a copy of a compact disc…no, a DVD the Doctor realised, although of course he had nothing to play it on. He started to thumb through the pages, carefully examining them. The photographs all appeared to be taken in or around Wester Drumlins; most of them depicted Angels, although there were several that showed the message written supposedly by himself to the mysterious Sally Sparrow. One photograph stood out from the rest; it was a black and white family photograph of a young woman surrounded by her young children - this one was accompanied by a letter. A victim of the Angels, the Doctor realised, as he read her missive.

The last few pages were by far the most enlightening - stapled together, they held a transcript of a conversation between himself and Sally; his own parts printed, her responses filled in in hastily scrawled shorthand. A one sided conversation completed at a later date - it wouldn't't be the first time, he mused. He rubbed his chin and a last tiny scrap of paper fell out of the folder. He glanced at it as it fluttered to the floor and then snatched it up as he recognised the writing. It was undoubtedly his own penmanship, but with the subtle differences that marked it as belonging to a different regeneration.

It was brief. It said:

_Village Churchyard_

_3pm_

_26__th__ September 1921_

_DON'T BE LATE. AND DON'T BLINK_

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**Thanks again to those who read, reviewed, favourited or followed.**


	10. Chapter 10

_The Doctor and the Angels - chapter 10_

**Ok, I can't help it. You'll have to forgive me some fluff in this chapter!**

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Liz's breath came in quick panting gasps, her heart pounding in her ears. In a matter of seconds she took stock of her position; it was pitch dark but she was able to judge from the quality of the air and that finely tuned instinct humans have that the room she was in was tiny. A cupboard, most likely. Her back was pressed against a solid, warm chest. That, along with the arms that were still tightly wrapped around her - one around her waist, the other across her chest - were most certainly not made from stone. She cautiously lifted a hand to brush the edges of her fingers against the back of the hand splayed over the front of her shoulder, its own fingers wrapped around her upper arm.

"Alastair?" she ventured in a whisper.

"Sshhh." came the response. It was enough to confirm to her that her assumption was correct and it was indeed the Brigadier; she sagged in relief, her breath leaving her lungs in a rush. She felt the arm round her waist tighten slightly and she focused on her knees, forcing them to straighten and take her weight. She hadn't realised until that moment how much the man behind her was holding her up. Fortunately her legs obeyed and she felt his grip loosen again, although he did not remove his arms.

There was almost nothing to hear, but had he been a betting man, the Brigadier would have laid fifty pounds on there being something outside the cupboard door. Not for nothing had he honed his senses to the point where he could simply _know_ the enemy was close by. He forced himself to ignore the sound of Liz's breath, the feel of her heartbeat thumping through the back of her rib cage, her hair brushing against his cheek, the rapid rise and fall of her chest…focus, man! Ignore her, for now at least. Now matter how difficult that may prove to be. He tightened his arms again in a bid to steady himself as much as reassure her, and listened. After a moment there was an indiscernible change in the air and the light bulb above their heads slowly flickered back into life. Liz saw that she had been correct and they stood in a broom cupboard, surrounded by shelves of cleaning products.

"Are you alright?" he murmured, and Liz exploded with gooseflesh as his breath huffed into the crook of her neck.

"Yes," she answered, willing her voice to steady itself.

"Let's find the others."

And with that he stepped around her to open the cupboard door a crack, letting his hand slide to the small of her back but never letting go.

"All clear," he said quietly, guiding her out with him into the hallway.

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Harry paced back and forth, unsure of what he could possibly do. He'd shut, locked and barricaded the door to the medibay with the hospital style bed; he'd pumped it up to the right height to wedge the guard rail under the door handle and put the brakes on for good measure, although if he was honest he had no idea if that would be enough to hold the Angels at bay. He was convinced that if there was one there would be more. He was also increasingly worried about David. He almost leapt out of his skin at the sound of sudden hammering on the door.

"Who's there?" he demanded, trying to sound braver than he felt.

"It's me, Martha," came the reply and Harry relaxed somewhat.

"Just a sec," he called back, releasing the brake on the bed and pressing the foot pedal to lower it enough to pull it away from the door.

Martha flung herself into the room and shut the door behind her; the two of the pushed the bed back into place.

"No sign of David?" Harry asked her in concern and she shook her head.

"I came straight here but I looked into the loos on the way past. He's not there."

Harry shoved his hands into his pockets and rocked on his heels.

"I say, the Angels haven't got him _again_, have they? Could they do that?"

Martha shrugged despairingly.

"I can't think of a reason why they couldn't" She began pacing as Harry had been doing for the last half hour. After a few moments she stopped and turned to face him.

"The Doctor - _my _Doctor - said the Angels were attracted to the TARDIS. They feed off potential energy. The TARDIS is like a feast to them."

Harry nodded to indicate he followed although this was news to him.

"That's probably why they've followed us here… but what if _David_ is giving off those same signals? He's not of this time."

"Well, if it's come to that, neither am I." Harry pointed out. "And neither's the Brig, or Dr Shaw… and I'm guessing if you know the Doctor you might be giving off the same 'I've travelled in time' signals?"

Martha nodded.

"Yes, you're right. Although David's the only one who's been displaced, if you follow. But yes, if all of us are broadcasting our potential energy to the Angels its no wonder they're hunting us."

"So, the question is, Dr Jones - what are we going to _do _about it?"

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Sarah stirred and screwed her eyes shut against the autumn sunlight that was pouring in through the window, hitting her directly in the face and threatening to leach in under her eyelids. She groaned and attempted to stretch, frowning as her right arm and leg collided with something large, filling more than half of the bed. Now that she was more awake, it became apparent that she was almost hanging off the edge of the mattress, and she was only half covered by the blankets. It suddenly occurred to her that her left side was freezing. She turned onto her side, pressing her back against the Doctor's and tugged at the blankets, trying to free them and pull them further around herself. Try as she might, even when she moved as close to the sleeping Timelord as she could, she could only just cover herself and an inch gap was left between the edge of the blankets and the bed, allowing a chilly draught to tease its way in. She wriggled backwards to try and push him over a bit to no avail. She elbowed him in the back, but her only answer was a resounding snore. Sighing, she sat up and nudged him in the shoulder. Sleepily, he reached up and patted her hand without opening his eyes.

Sarah Jane looked down at him fondly. No matter how much he irritated her, how badly he behaved… she couldn't help her affection for him. Sometimes she wondered at her own weakness when it came to her alien friend.

"Stop staring," he murmured.

"I _would _go back to sleep," she said quietly back to him, "but _someone _is hogging the bed, and the blankets too."

"Ah," he acknowledged matter of factly, "Come here, then," and with that he snaked out an arm quickly and grabbed her round the waist, pulling her down onto the bed in front of him and wrapping the blankets tightly around them both. Sarah was mightily taken aback but didn't protest. She was exponentially warmer and more comfortable than she had been and she began to drift off again almost immediately.

"Doctor?" She asked after a moment.

"Hmmm?"

"What are we going to do? If we can't get back, I mean…?"

The Doctor sighed and pulled her closer.

"A solution will present itself, Sarah. And if it doesn't…well. I shall be alright with my Sarah Jane to keep me company." After a pause he added, " I hope you feel the same."

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**The calm before the storm… the action picks up again in the next chapter. Please do review if you've read this far, especially if you're still enjoying it!**


	11. Chapter 11

**Here we are then. Back on track with the story and my apologies to those who insisted the fluff chapter was too short! Thanks to everyone who's reviewed so far, and thanks especially to the guests who review since I can't message you to say it personally. I just write whatever comes into my head, I don't pretend to be an amazing author, and knowing there are people out there enjoying this is a little overwhelming. You're all wonderful.**

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_**The Doctor and the Angels - chapter 11**_

Sarah Jane dressed quickly in the clothes the landlord's daughter had given her; a plain cotton blouse, a knee length skirt of the sort she'd had to wear at school, and a woollen jumper. She slipped her feet into her cowboy boots and rolled up her dress, tucking it into one of the Doctor's coat's voluminous pockets. Since she had no need of the coat anymore now she had the jumper, she picked it up and tapped the Doctor on the shoulder with it to get his attention. He was at the window, staring into the distance, dutifully keeping his back turned while she changed.

"What now?" she asked, following his gaze and taking in what there was to see of the tiny village. The Doctor did not turn his head but handed her a small piece of paper that Sarah would have taken to be torn from a diary, except that the page was undated.

She read the script and handed it back to the Doctor.

"Who's it from? It looks like your writing, but…different."

The Doctor turned to smile indulgently at her.

"Exactly." he said, grinning as he tapped the side of his nose. She mimicked the gesture with an affectionate smile and turned to go.

"Come on then. The note says 3pm today. We can explore a bit before that."

The Doctor grinned even more widely. After everything that had happened, she still wanted to explore. Really, what more could he ask for in a companion? Acting on a rarely indulged impulse, he pulled her into a brief one armed hug and dropped a quick kiss onto the top of her head.

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Liz Shaw and the Brigadier had stepped cautiously out into the corridor, feeling perhaps slightly more confident than they should have, given that at the first left hand turn they were confronted with three Angels - thankfully facing away from them. They were no less threatening from the back and the pair of humans had dashed back into the broom cupboard. They eyed each other, the Brigadier looking furious with the enemy, and inwardly just as angry with himself for being so gung ho and putting Liz at risk.

"What now?" Liz hissed. Alistair glanced upwards and craned his neck as he spotted what he was looking for. Liz followed his look quizzically and scoffed as she saw what his intentions were.

"The ventilation shaft? Really? This isn't _really_ a Bond film you know, Brigadier."

"Have you a better idea?" he whispered back, his eyebrow raised challengingly. "Come on Liz, it's a classic for a reason!"

Liz sighed in disbelief as Alistair crouched down, linking his fingers together and holding his hands down by her knees to give her a leg up. Shaking her head in resignation, Liz put one booted foot into his palms, pressing a hand briefly to his shoulder to steady herself before taking hold of the shelves either side of her. He straightened up quickly, firing her upwards and she stifled a shriek of surprise at his strength. She recovered enough to swing her other foot out and plant it on the edge of a shelf, twisting sideways to perch on the highest one. She reached up to the hatch in the ceiling and carefully lifted it by the corners, turning it and moving it across to lay it out of the way inside the shaft. Bracing her hands on either side, she boosted herself up and sat inside the hatch, thanking heaven that it was tall enough inside to accommodate her in this position. They'd have to crawl, but at least it wouldn't be too tight a squeeze.

"Are you alright?" came the whispered question from below. "I'm coming up." Liz wriggled further in and moved her legs out of the way as Alistair hauled himself up, elbows first, followed by first one knee, then the other. He lifted the hatch and dropped it gently back into place.

"No idea if these Angels check such things, but we might as well cover our tracks."

For a moment they stared at each other, silently debating which way to go. Rather than a ventilation shaft it was in fact a loft space that seemed to cover the entire square footage of the floor below. It was divided here and there by joists and struts but otherwise it was a fairly open, vast space.

"That way, I think." Liz suggested, gesturing behind the Brigadier. "I can see lights in that direction"

Alistair craned to look over his shoulder and saw that she was quite right; tiny beams of light were forcing their way through joins in the ceiling under their feet. He turned himself round awkwardly in the tight space and started to crawl, Liz following him.

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The Doctor might have called him an imbecile; but Harry Sullivan was a highly intelligent man. UNIT had sought him out for a reason, and while he preferred to keep his feet on the ground - lacking that sense of adventure that Sarah Jane possessed in bucket loads, and the complete disregard for personal safety that seem to be required of the Doctor's travelling companions - he was not a fool.

"Back at that house," he said thoughtfully while Martha fiddled with her mobile phone, trying for the fourth time, unsuccessfully, to call the main control room;

"Hmm?"

"You positioned those Angels so they were facing each other. Presumably they can't move while they're being observed, so you make them observe each other, freezing them - I assume - permanently. Am I right?"

"Yes," she agreed, looking up with interest, the tone of his voice suggesting the beginnings of an idea.

"So what if we were to arm ourselves with that mirror?" he asked, nodding towards the large looking glass above the sink on the wall opposite him. Martha followed his look and nodded, a smile creeping across her lips.

"Good idea, Dr Sullivan."

"Why thank you, Dr Jones." he countered, and the two of them set to about the task of unscrewing the mirror from its brackets. It came away easily, being a DIY job that was designed specifically for the layman to install with the most basic of tools. They carefully eased it down onto the floor and Martha frowned at its weight.

"We need to cut it really, but how?"

"Shh," Harry hushed her, holding up a hand, "What was that?"

Martha's head shot up and she narrowed her eyes at the faint scraping sound. It was followed by a clang and a loud rattle, coming from the direction of the door.

"Get behind me," she ordered and Harry's protest at this order of unchivalrous behaviour died on his lips as she pulled a gun from inside her jacket, training it at the door. A moment later she started in surprise and her aimed weapon shot upwards as one of the ceiling tiles split cleanly in two and a foot appeared. She relaxed instantly at the sight of the unmistakeable army booted foot that was quickly followed by the rest of the Brigadier's body as he dropped neatly down the floor.

Give me a hand, Sullivan," he barked and Harry obliged, the two men reaching up to take Liz's elbows and lower her to the floor without too much loss of dignity. She tugged at the hem of her dress and looked around at the medibay.

"How the devil did those things get into UNIT?" the Brigadier demanded of Martha, and though he did not say it out loud, all three of them knew he'd silently added 'it would never have happened in _my_ day.' Liz was privately rather impressed at his restraint.

"The only thing I can think of is the underground system; it links us to a few places. But it should be secure!" Martha protested, immediately on the defensive.

"Never mind that," Harry interjected before the altercation descended into a shouting match. "Let's find something to cut this mirror with, and sort these Angels out for good."

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The Doctor and Sarah entered the churchyard at a little after half past two and wandered over to some of the older graves. For the second time in as many days, the Doctor passed the time idly reading the inscriptions, this time accompanied by Sarah who had no personal visits to make. Suddenly he froze and Sarah, who'd been following him, almost collided with his back. She looked around him and saw what had made him pull up short.

"_Angels?_ Really? What are the chances of coming across them twice in two days?" she exclaimed softly in disbelief. There were only two this time, and they stood, eyes covered, either side of a large crypt. To anyone else they would appear to be nothing more than ornaments, in keeping with the surroundings, but to the Doctor they were anything but. He instinctively put an arm across Sarah's chest, protectively shielding her although he knew that it was almost certainly useless to attempt to keep her out of harm's way using that method.

"Don't look away, not even for a second. Don't even blink."

And as they stared hard at the Angels, their eyes leaking persistent tears at the effort, two things happened;

The clock on the church tower struck three.

And the TARDIS materialised behind them.

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**Back soon with more!**


	12. Chapter 12

**Apologies for the delay with this chapter, real life gets in the way sometimes!**

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_The Doctor and the Angels - chapter 12_

Sarah Jane and the Doctor backed as fast as they dared to the TARDIS and the Doctor fumbled for the key while Sarah stared hard at the Angels. The door open, they tumbled inside and slammed it shut. The Doctor turned for the console and pulled up short in surprise. Sarah Jane gaped at the surroundings. Gone was the sleek white interior; instead the whole room had been stripped to its bare bones. Under the console wires and controls were exposed; growths that the Doctor knew to be the living part of the TARDIS were in plain view. It was huge and industrial and ugly but there was a kind of beauty to it too, something akin to opening a pocket watch and seeing the cogs within working with each other to tick the seconds forward. For a moment neither of them moved.

An echoing voice boomed over their heads; a voice that was unfamiliar to Sarah but which the Doctor recognised as his own; although like the writing, it bore the differences that marked it as belonging to another version of himself.

"This is security protocol seven-one-two. This time capsule has detected the presence of an authorised control disc, valid one journey."

Sarah eyed the Doctor in confusion.

"Doctor, what on Earth…" her voice cut off as the TARDIS rocked with sudden violence and she was thrown against one of the railings that now flanked the console. The Doctor stumbled and gripped the railing, gallantly hooking an arm around her in an effort to keep her upright.

"Please insert the disc and prepare for departure" the disembodied voice continued.

"The disc!" the Doctor exclaimed with sudden realisation; letting go of Sarah he reached into his coat and pulled out the file of documents, tugging it open and rifling through the papers as the TARDIS gave another lurch sideways.

"Doctor, what's happening?" Sarah cried out as she clutched at the railing.

"The Angels are trying to take the TARDIS," the Doctor said, his voice grim. "Aha!" he exclaimed as he found what he was looking for. He pulled the DVD out of the file and held it up. It started to emit a faint glow and he grinned at Sarah who responded with a wan smile. It took him three attempts to reach the console as the rocking of the TARDIS threw him back and forth, but he made it eventually and quickly located the slot for the disc. After a pause Sarah sagged in relief as the unmistakeable sounds of dematerialisation began.

"Where are we going?" she called.

"No idea!" the Doctor boomed back happily.

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David had seen enough science fiction films to know about paradoxes. He wasn't sure he completely followed the theory, but he knew enough to understand that they had the potential to be a Very Bad Thing. After looking up from the sink in the gents at UNIT to be faced with another Angel, and moments later finding himself on the same hillside on - at least according to the hippies he'd met before - the same day, he'd very sensibly asked if he could spend the night with them before heading down to the police station in the morning, ensuring he would arrive there _after_ the time they'd all taken off in the TARDIS. He'd cheerfully asked them to call the same officer who'd picked him up earlier. The desk sergeant was quite clearly baffled as to how he had 'escaped' from UNIT's custody, and why he should be demanding to be taken back into it, but he obviously didn't want an argument and did as he was asked. David sat calmly in a cell while he waited, and eventually the door swung open and Benton appeared.

"I thought you'd gone with the Doctor and the Brig," Benton said in confusion.

"I did," David sighed. "And then I bumped into one of those bloody angels. Again."

Benton attempted to look sympathetic but failed to disguise the twitching of his mouth. David grinned ruefully and the pair of them began to laugh.

"Come on," said Benton, standing to one side and gesturing for David to lead the way out of the cell, "You look like you could do with a pint."

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Martha, Liz, Harry and the Brigadier had managed to lift the large mirror onto the bed in the medibay. Harry had located a scalpel and scored a rough grid onto the surface, and they'd tried tapping it with various objects to break pieces off. It had worked to an extent. The pieces were by no means uniform in size or shape but they were at least small enough to handle easily. Harry distributed them and the Brigadier placed his hand on the door handle.

"Ready?" he asked

"As we'll ever be," Harry quipped.

After almost an hour, the four of them had made it to the main control room. Brandishing the pieces of mirror like one might hold a cross in front of a vampire, they were able to deal with more than one angel apiece and had successfully frozen each statue in place long enough for them to pass. Harry flung open the door and they moved quickly through it, slamming it shut. Martha's face fell as she saw the empty desks.

"I should've… I should have _known_ , I….." she trailed off miserably and the Brigadier placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"There are always losses in battle, Doctor Jones." he said softly, and she threw him a grateful look. He let his hand drop and she pulled herself together, attempting to take charge in what appeared to be a fairly hopeless situation. Moving across to the nearest desk, she pulled up a grid on the screen showing the feed from sixteen different CCTV cameras. Several of them showed images of Angels. Liz and the Brigadier looked over her shoulder as she flicked through the feeds until she found what she was looking for; the underground system that led to an alternative exit elsewhere in London, designed to be used if UNIT's main headquarters was ever compromised. Liz's jaw dropped as they saw the seriousness of their situation. The camera could only show a snippet of the tunnel, but the section shown resembled a battalion; at least two dozen Angels could be seen, and untold others were presumably out of sight. Liz's mouth fell open in shock and she eyed Alistair nervously, awaiting his reaction to this invasion. He looked furious and a muscle in his jaw twitched, but he remained silent.

Martha gnawed on her lip.

"We can deal with this, surely?" Liz asked with a look to Alistair for confirmation. "The mirrors work. We need more of them. If we can use something to attach a mirror to each one…"

"Like a wing mirror?" Harry asked, and Martha nodded slowly.

"Yes, I see what you mean. Wait!" she turned and headed over to a corner of the room, throwing open a cupboard. It contained several UNIT uniforms and she tugged one out, pulling the hangar out of the jacket and holding it up for them to see.

"A wire coat hanger? Good God, it's like an episode of Blue Peter," the Brigadier remarked dryly.

"It'll work," Martha said with more confidence than she felt. Feeling the need to show some feminine solidarity, Liz started to rummage through the wardrobe, pulling out as many hangers as she could find. Harry had located the stationery cupboard and was retrieving rolls of sticky tape and packets of blu-tac. Martha glanced at her watch.

"I have to go." she said suddenly, adding at the other's confounded looks, "There are lots of other UNIT personnel in the building. I need to find them and warn them. And besides, we'll need them if we're going to deal with all those angels."

"Doctor Jones, I can't allow you…" the Brigadier began to protest but Martha cut him off sharply.

"This is _my_ UNIT, Brigadier. You look after your team, and I'll look after mine."

And with that she picked up two pieces of mirror and left the three of them alone.

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Sarah and the Doctor clutched at the console anxiously as they travelled to who-knew-where and who-knew-when. The TARDIS eventually landed with a thump and the Doctor glanced up at the display. He shook his head before Sarah could open her mouth to ask. He didn't know where they were.

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Liz's head shot up at the sound of the TARDIS and she reached for the Brigadier, who was already on high alert. As far as he was concerned the TARDIS was safely hidden in one of UNIT's cells and whatever this was, it could indicate trouble. He pulled out his gun and reached blindly for Liz's hip, pushing her firmly behind him. The TARDIS slowly appeared, winking in and out of existence until it solidified in front of them. The Doctor and Sarah appeared in a flurry of limbs and scarf and the Doctor pulled Sarah back behind him as the TARDIS door slammed of its own volition. After a pause it began to dematerialise and the pair of travellers took in their surroundings.

The Brigadier lowered his gun.

"Good to see, you Doctor," he said, and for once he sounded as though he meant it.

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**Thanks again for reading, please don't forget to tell me what you think.**


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13. Thanks for sticking with this so far. Couple more chapters to go!**

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_The Doctor and the Angels - chapter 13_

Martha stalked slowly along the corridors. She'd turned in the opposite direction to the way they'd come in and the CCTV cameras had shown her enough to know where the fewest Angels were. She had her mirrors but was avoiding having to use them; the less the Angels were aware of her presence, the better. Finally reaching the room she was headed for, she backed her way in through the door.

"Hello, Martha Jones;" she'd been expecting the voice, but nevertheless she almost leapt out of her skin.

"Doctor!"

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The Doctor surveyed the huge pile of necklaces they'd created. Each was fashioned from part of a wire coat hanger, a piece of mirror, and whatever had been available to stick the two together. The hangers were bent at an angle so that when hung around an angel's neck, they would prop the mirror in front of its face, forever freezing it in front of its own reflection. The items looked shoddy at best and the Doctor harrumphed uncomfortably. He glanced over at the Brigadier and for once they were on the same page. Leaders both, they knew they had to be positive for the sake of the others. That said, of course, the 'others' consisted of two highly intelligent doctors and a journalist with the keenest of instincts. There would likely be no fooling any of them.

"Well then." he said, rubbing his hands together. "Shall we go and get on with it?"

He grinned widely across at Sarah who sent him a look of affectionate amusement.

"Ready when you are, Doctor."

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Martha fiddled with the security monitor in the tiny surveillance room and swore as it fizzed to nothing with a tiny pop. The Doctor - _her_ Doctor, not that he belonged to her as such - pulled out his sonic screwdriver and pointed it at the screen, bringing it back to life with an odd hum that it had never had before. It was working at least, and Martha flicked through the feeds again until she found the view of the corridor outside the main control room, waiting until the people she'd left behind emerged.

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Downstairs, the tiny group had taken armfuls of mirrors, hanging them over their forearms. The Brigadier had little faith in this plan; it was as makeshift as they came. On the other hand though, this kind of ingenuity had got him out of tight spots before, and he was far too long in the tooth to write off a valid plan of action. As far fetched as it may seem, it was a plan at least, infinitely better than no plan at all. The Doctor turned the door handle and made to step out into the corridor. On impulse Alistair snaked out a hand and gave Liz's arm a reassuring squeeze. She looked at him curiously.

"I'm sorry," he muttered under his breath, "for dragging you into this. I should never have…"

Liz turned to face him fully.

"Alistair. I didn't _have_ to come." She didn't elaborate further, but she didn't have to. She looked determined and he twitched a smile at her, feeling an inkling of that same pride the Doctor so often felt in Sarah Jane.

Half an hour had passed and Martha looked helplessly at the screen as the Doctor and his entourage of humans worked tirelessly; the cameras feeding the CCTV continued to wink on and off, and while it was clear they were making headway - the number of angels adorned with a rigid necklace propping up a mirror in front of their faces rose steadily - it was obvious every time the cameras came back on that the battalion was slowly advancing. The number of angels able to move gradually fell, but there came a point when, in spite of being spread out over that floor of the building, they were quite obviously surrounding the small team.

"I just wish I could _help_." Martha said plaintively.

The Doctor shook his head.

"You know you can't, Martha. I would have remembered you being there. Don't forget that that's _me_ down there."

"It really is, isn't it?" Martha asked with wonder in her voice. She glanced over at the Doctor, who was watching himself on the screen with a far away look in his eyes.

"Should _you_ really be here? Two versions of you in the same time and place - doesn't that make time go…. 'poof', or something?" she illustrated her point with a snap of her fingers.

The Doctor shrugged a shoulder with his characteristically over-casual air, throwing and catching the sonic screwdriver in one hand.

"Wobbly wobbly… timey wimey…" he trailed off. "It'll be fine."

"Will it?"

"Of course. I was here before, remember? I would have remembered if time went 'poof'."

"Seriously though, aren't you itching to go and deal with this?"

"I _am _dealing with it!" he countered with an indignant gesture at the other him on the screen.

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They'd come up with a sort of tag team approach. Taking turns to do the looking, as it were, three of them would keep their eyes on the Angels, while the other two hung the necklaces on them. It was oddly like handing out medals at the Olympic games, Sarah mused, and made herself smile at the thought. Her blood was pounding with nerves and the whole operation seemed balanced on a knife edge. Between them they only had ten eyes, and they had to blink often enough for the Angels to keep advancing. So far they'd been fairly evenly matched, but they were definitely coming faster, and that meant at some point they would be outnumbered…and then what would happen?

The Doctor watched her, as always. His attention was never fully focused on the task at hand - it didn't need to be, of course, such was the vastness of his mind - but he'd never had a companion who took up such a significant percentage of his mental capacity in quite the same way before. The Brigadier could look after himself, what with his silly guns and bullets. He cared about Liz of course, and he even had a grudging fondness for Harry, not that he'd ever admit it. But Sarah Jane had burrowed under his skin. Even now, he realised with a start, he ought to concentrating on these Angels and here he was, thinking about her again. He silently chided himself and squared his shoulders, touching the Brigadier on the arm to indicate he was ready to exchange places. The Brigadier pushed the dozen or so mirrors hooked over his arm back above his elbow and stepped back to let the Doctor go ahead.

"Over to the left," he barked, "two of them."

"Got it!" Sarah called and he watched them carefully as she stepped up, a mirror-necklace in each hand, and hung them around the Angel's necks, arranging them so they hung correctly.

"Done!" she called and he went back to sweeping the corridor ahead with his eyes.

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Upstairs, the Doctor watched Sarah on the screen.

"She was so brave," he murmured with a hint of wistfulness.

"She still is, Doctor." Martha reminded him.

The Doctor looked away and she saw a bitter look cross his face.

"Everything was simpler back then."

Martha attempted to lighten the mood.

"Your fashion sense certainly wasn't simpler. Look at that scarf! What on Earth were you thinking?"

"Scarves are cool." the Doctor said with a sulky hint of defiance.

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At the junction of four corridors, the team finally found themselves in real trouble. They stood, back to back facing down the three halls they hadn't been down yet. Harry stared hard in one direction, his eyes aching with the effort. There were six Angels in his eye line and no matter how hard he tried he could not keep his gaze fixed on all of them.

"Doctor?" he pleaded, "what now?"

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Martha clutched at the Doctor's arm.

"Doctor, if you knew exactly what was going to happen…"

"Yeees?" he drawled with raised eyebrows.

"Why didn't you tell me there were so many Angels? And," she continued accusingly, "why didn't you tell me that half my team would be taken by them?"

The Doctor looked at her seriously.

"I couldn't risk you trying to change things. I'm sorry."

Martha bit her lip and held back tears.

"They lived good lives, all of them. I checked." the Doctor ducked his head to try and catch her eye and smiled sheepishly. She took the peace offering and sent him a watery smile back.

"Thank you."

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Liz gnawed on her lip with the effort, winking one eye after the other, watching the Angels. Her eyes began to tear and her vision started to obscure; through the haze she could see them coming for her. She reached blindly for the Brigadier's hand and found his fingers, squeezing them hard; surprised and yet not surprised at all when he returned the pressure.

The Doctor, standing in the middle of the group, wrapped an arm around Sarah's shoulders, pulling her back against him.

"Brace yourselves, everybody!" he boomed, raising the sonic screwdriver above his head and pointing it at the light above his head.

"When I give the word, everybody blink. Now!"

As the others closed their eyes, he pressed the button. There was a bang and a huge flash.

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Upstairs, the monitor went black again.

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**Thanks again for reading, please do review. I can't begin to tell you how much reviews make my day!**


	14. Chapter 14

**And so we reach the end.**

**NB for the purposes of this fic, Torchwood is still up and running, no Children of Earth and what have you. I've done my utmost to keep everything in else in keeping with canon and I hope I've succeeded!**

**Apologies for the multiple Lord of the Rings style endings, but there were a fair few loose ends to tie up. I do hope you've enjoyed reading this as much as I've enjoyed writing it. Please do let me know what you thought.**

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_The Doctor and the Angels - chapter 14_

Sarah Jane clutched at the Doctor's arm with both hands as the explosion rocked around them. The light forced its way under her eyelids and her ears rang with the sound. Time seemed to slow down and what seemed minutes - but was probably only a fraction of a second - after the Doctor had shouted '_now,' _the floor gave way beneath her feet and her stomach lurched as she fell. They landed in a heap on the floor below, she in the Doctor's lap. She blinked open her eyes, dots dancing in front of her vision and turned to look at the others. Liz and the Brigadier had landed in a heap of tangled limbs and Harry was sprawled on his back several feet away. Shaking her head, she twisted to look back over her shoulder, noticing as she did so that the Doctor's grip on her had loosened; and no wonder, because he was out cold, the sonic screwdriver still clasped in his hand.

"Doctor? Doctor!" she said urgently, "Harry, help!"

Harry rolled slowly onto his side and eased himself up, testing carefully as he did for signs of breaks or sprains. His whole body hurt from the fall and he couldn't be sure the aches weren't masking anything more serious. Satisfied he was still in one piece, he pulled himself quickly to his feet and hurried over to where Sarah was bending over the Doctor's prone form, gesturing for her to move out of his way. She complied, moving round to sit at the Doctor's shoulder, cradling his head in her lap while Harry bent his head to the Timelord's chest.

After several moments, during which the Brigadier had hauled himself up and started to scout round the corridor they found themselves in, Harry shook his head.

"No heart - hearts - beat," he said sadly, looking up to catch Sarah's eye. She shook her head vehemently.

"No. He's not dead. It'll his respiratory bypass. It has to be!"

"Respiratory bypass? What on - " Harry asked, his face incredulous, "No, Sarah, I'm telling you, you're wrong, you're-"

"A very clever girl," the deep voice finished for him. Liz, who'd been looking on anxiously, sighed in relief and Sarah let out a squeal of delight as the Doctor opened his eyes and looked up at her. Unable to contain her delight, she pressed a quick kiss to his forehead and he reached up, patting her awkwardly on the arm.

"When you've all finished," the Brigadier remarked dryly, "we could do with finding a way out of here. I've no idea if those Angels can climb down through that hole, but I've no desire to find out."

"Ah, but there's no need to worry," the Doctor told him with one of his signature Cheshire cat grins. "You see, I've fixed it. I've fixed them all. I _am_ rather clever, you know"

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Upstairs, the other incarnation of the Doctor fiddled with the monitor, pulling out his own sonic screwdriver and forcing it back into action. It was terribly difficult to see the image on screen, given the blinding light created by his other self, but the effect was clear; the sonic screwdriver had blasted the remaining pieces or mirror into smithereens, burying them in the walls and floor, and the light from the overhead fluorescents, arterially amplified, reflected the against the mirrors, casting reflections in all directions.

"It's like a hall of mirrors," gaped Martha.

"Impressed?"

"Yes, actually."

"Not as much I was that it actually worked." the Doctor said sheepishly, and the two of them began to laugh.

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_UNIT HQ, 1976_

The Doctor eyed David across the Brigadier's office and reached out to clap the young man on the shoulder.

"Can you take him back, Doctor?" Sarah Jane asked, eyebrows raised.

"Yes." The Doctor answered shortly. "You'd do better to stay here. My research shows they appear to have a particular liking for repeat victims."

David looked crestfallen.

"How can I stay here? I've nowhere to live, no job…"

The Brigadier tapped the desk.

"UNIT can help you David. We can produce documentation, assist you with accommodation."

"And," the Doctor added cheerfully, "I've a friend who may be able to help you with a job. Come along now, there's a good chap, don't look so miserable."

The Doctor left the office, his arm round David, Sarah Jane on their heels. The Brigadier was left alone with Liz who turned to him, eyebrows raised.

"Alls well that ends well, then." she offered.

"Yes. So you decided against the twenty first century job then?"

Liz smiled and glanced down at her feet.

"Yes," she agreed, "there were lots of things on offer, but there were more important things keeping me here."

The Brigadier smiled back.

"I'm glad of it."

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_Cardiff, 2012._

Martha stepped through the heavy rolling door into the Torchwood hub and smiled at the young man who'd handed her a coffee almost the second she'd appeared.

"Thanks, Ianto."

He nodded politely and left her to it.

Jack emerged from his office and threw her a megawatt grin.

"Martha Jones! Come to check up on us?"

Martha chuckled.

"Just come to see how the storage operation's going."

Jack turned and motioned for her to follow him down to the cells in the basement. At the foot of the stairs a dark haired woman was filling out notes on a clipboard.

"Hi Gwen,"

"Hi Martha. Jack, there's two hundred and four of the bloody things down here now, are there many more to come?"

"One more load. We've got space, right?"

"I suppose so. They don't need much room each, but we wont' be able to hold anything else until they're properly arranged."

Jack nodded and gestured the past the cells. There were several steps down at the end of the dark hallway and Martha moved over to the top, peering down into a large cellar space. Lined up row upon row, each with its mirror necklace, the Angels looked no less threatening than they had before. More mirrors had been arranged on the walls, ceilings and stacked around the floor, covering any chance of an angel losing its necklace. The whole place was a mass of reflections.

Martha was impressed.

"Very good."

Jack grinned.

"Well, you know me. I aim to please."

Martha waited until Gwen had disappeared back upstairs before nudging Jack's arm.

"You were at Wester Drumlins."

"Yep."

"Where'd it send you back to?"

"1952"

"Where did you spend the last forty years this time?"

"Vegas."

Martha let out a short laugh.

"Figures."

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_Coal Hill School, London, 1976_

David straightened his new suit jacket and looked up at the school entrance. It was the day before term started and the place was eerily quiet; he tightened his grip on his briefcase and tried to stand taller, attempting to look more confident than he felt. The door opened and a man came down the steps towards him, holding out hand for him to shake. He was perhaps in his late forties, his hair peppered with grey. The headmaster, presumably.

"Mr Chesterton?"

"Ian," the older man confirmed.

"Ian. Thank you for the opportunity -" David began, but Ian waved his gratitude away.

"No need of that, any friend of the Doctor's is a friend of mine. Happy to help."

David relaxed, just a little. At least this man might _understand_.

"I must say, I feel quite out of place." he admitted.

Ian laughed.

"Out of place and out of time, I expect." he leaned in to speak in a confidential tone, "I'd lost two years when I got back. At least you have the advantage."

David stopped and gaped at Ian's retreating back. The older man glanced back over his shoulder.

"Well, come along in, then. I'll show you the science classroom. But first you must meet my wife."

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Sarah Jane followed the Doctor into the TARDIS and leaned against the console, watching him as he tinkered with the controls.

"So… your future self got us out a couple of tricky situations there." she remarked, sending him a cheeky grin as he looked up to catch her eye.

"Nonsense. I was perfectly in control the whole time."

"Hmm. Do you think he's better looking than you?"

The Doctor looked perfectly outraged and Sarah laughed out loud. She glanced down thoughtfully and then back up at the Doctor who was watching her a little too closely.

"Do you think we're still friends? That version of you and I?"

The Doctor sent her a warm smile.

"I'm sure we are, Sarah."

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_The Delirium Archive, the distant future._

"That which holds the image of an Angel becomes itself an Angel."

River looked confused.

"What does that mean? An image of an Angel becomes itself an Angel?"

The Doctor stared at her with sudden realisation. At the faint shout from the viewing room he leapt to his feet.

"Amy!"

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It was hours later; Amy was fast asleep, exhausted after her ordeal. The TARDIS was floating quietly in the vortex and the Doctor himself had laid down for a much needed rest. He was thinking about River, and attempting to mentally sort through his hopelessly tangled personal timeline. Being close to people always made it more complicated. And River especially threw him for a loop. He was not used to others having the upper hand; he thought back to her face as they'd looked through the book together.

The book!

The Doctor sat up abruptly and ran the words from the book back over in his mind.

"That which holds the image of an Angel becomes itself an Angel."

The image of an Angel… did a mirror image count? How many hundreds of _those_ had they created?

Swiftly, he moved back into the console room and picked up the newest transmitting device he'd installed.

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Thousands of years earlier, and untold light years away, in an attic in Ealing, the phone began to ring.

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**Thanks again for reading, please do review. I can't begin to tell you how much reviews make my day!**


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